Fragmented
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: They're two broken souls, internally thought to be damaged beyond repair. But when they find each other, they're whole. ClaireMichael.


_For Dannie (_very_ late birthday fic) & Maddie because I promised I'd dedicate all McClaire fics to her...and also for Rae, because it's in the book she's read._

_I haven't read Glass Houses in one _very_ long time, so excuse any lack of consistency with the books._

* * *

~x~

She's always been damaged, always had a certain vulnerability beneath her surface that leads to her soul cracking whenever she faces anything hard. It takes her oh so long to be able to repair it, each day it healing a little at a time until, _finally_, she's whole again.

Just for her to be destroyed once again by another bully, another person who can't understand her because she's so focused, utterly driven towards her end goal as she can't _wait_ to get out of this town and get to college. She'll be able to get to somewhere with other people like her, other people who can multiply forty three seventieths by fourteen thirtieths in their heads, and it will make up for all these years of hardship.

But it doesn't quite work like that; she leaves behind the others who tormented her, who fragmented her to the point where she almost had no return…and now she's found others.

The ringleader, Monica Morrell, is one hundred times worse than Lily Green and it's _oh so hard_ for Claire to ignore her because it's so different to High School; there, she could go home and ignore it, imagine the better future she would have if she just _ignored them_ and have something to strive for.

Here, it's the end result and she has no escape.

She's becoming more and more fractured, more and more broken by the words, the actions and, finally, the acts of violence.

Falling down the stairs shatters more than just her physical body; it's the thing that results in her insides being smashed into smithereens and threatens to be the thing that _truly_ destroys her forever. What she needs now is someone who can heal her, someone who can make her realise everything's ok.

She doubts she's going to get that.

~x~

It's three hours later that she first enters the Glass House and she's in awe of not only the simplicity of the house, yet the _atmosphere_ inside as well. She can't sense the fear and anxiety her entire life has somehow managed to become; all she can feel is happiness, the way a home _ought_ to be, a safe haven to come home to…

…especially when she finds out about the vampires.

She's certain that of the two percent wiped off the top of the TPU class roster; she would be part of them, her vulnerability, her fragility key to her desirability to a vampire. She would have been an easy target, someone who would have been wiped out instantly…but she soon forgets everything about her university because she's been accepted here by people she wants to be able to call her friends. They're people who are strong and are going to be able to protect her, rather than the pitiful attempts at self safety she's attempted so far.

(Little does she know that there's someone else in the house who is as broken as her, if not more so.)

~x~

Michael can tell instantly that she's not what she should be, that she's a mere shadow of what she could be and that there's something wrong. Beneath the fragile outer shell of the girl who has entered his home, he can see there's a spark inside of her that's close to being entirely doused; he can see that there's a chance that she could become broken and lose the vitality inside of her.

It's already happening to him; he can feel it inside of himself every night when he returns to the land of the physical beings, see it as he looks in the mirror and begins to forget who he is. He's fading away from that bright, vibrant boy he used to be and he's becoming more and more like the interior of the house, something that's there…but never recognised, never distinguished.

His flare of brilliance is dimming every day, to the point where he has to work harder and harder to ensure that he doesn't give up on the thing he loves because, if he does, he's got nothing left to live for.

"New kid," Eve says as he walks down the stairs towards her and Shane, already expecting food around. "She's younger than us but she looks like she needs somewhere decent to stay, y'know what I mean?" he already knew that she was younger and that should be setting warning bells off in his mind…

However, he's already sure that he's going to be letting her stay, no matter what.

"I'll see her later," is his response as he sits down in front of the television, trying desperately to try and summon on the reserves of his strength to continue to live without telling either his friends what's wrong with him.

But he knows that, sooner or later, it's all going to come crashing down around him.

~x~

He's playing his guitar when he first sees her, _finally_ having managed to remember why he loves it. For these few hours at least, he's happy – at least he is until the sunrise comes around again and he's forced back into the life that's breaking him daily, forced back into a ghost.

"Hey," she's hesitant as she steps forwards and he almost gasps in shock because he can see just how broken she is.

Just, unlike him, she shows it on the outside as well.

"Hey," he replies, setting his guitar on the sofa as he stands up to face her. Whilst he's already decided he has to pretend like he's not going to let her stay, the decision has been made for him that she's going to stay since the moment he laid eyes on her. Because, maybe, two broken, fragmented souls together can heal one another; maybe, together, they're going to be able to solve one another's problems until they're fully functioning human beings again.

Well, there's the issue that he's a ghost and she's a newbie in the only town in the world ran by vampires, but they're not major drawbacks.

He discusses with her for a bit about why he _shouldn't_ let her stay because the flicker inside of him just wants to tease her and see how far he can push this…and then he finally informs her that he's not going to kick her out.

He makes it out to be a temporary measure but he's already aware of the fact that it's not going to be, simply because he doesn't _want_ it to be.

~x~

The next day – well, night – he talks to her, trying to find out where she's been, why she's the way she is, because he wants to know just to find out what she's like. He wants to try and discover if there's something that's caused her to be like this (as he can tell it's not just Monica's influence) because…he just wants to _know_!

"I got bullied because I moved up through grades really quickly," she shrugs as if it's no big deal and he can barely hide a look of surprise because she's so _blasé_ about it. "I guess I always had the idea of the end goal of college as my motivation to get there, because I thought I would get to MIT or something. And now…now I'm here and I've just got Monica Morrell insulting me because I corrected her World War Two knowledge is just a bit pants, to be honest."

He nods slowly, thoughtfully, trying to find something to say but not being entirely sure because to go too far would be for him almost insinuating that he faced the same issues himself when, in fact, he was Mr Popular. And he can't let her see how he's as broken inside as she is because then she'd want to know why, want to help him…and she can't.

Because he's a ghost and there's no way for him to leave the house.

"It's alright if you don't know what to say, you know," she says slowly, her voice slightly filled with melancholy and not the bitter edge he would have expected. "You're quite obviously someone who used to be the It guy; you don't know what it's like to live on the edge, do you?"

He wants to protest here, to throw in that he's ten, if not one hundred, times more segregated from his peers than she is because _he's not even human_! She can't see that, just like nobody else can; even _Sam_, his Grandad, hasn't realised there's anything up, so why would Claire be the one to find it out? Yet her words annoy him ever so slightly because she can't see the bigger picture, that the "It guy" has nobody he can relate to whatsoever because he's never really been that popular.

"I know enough," he says finally, not bothering to elaborate on _his_ life because he wants to know more about this girl. Claire Danvers: she's smart, intriguing and, he can't help himself, prettier than any other girl he's ever seen. She has a certain aura about her that draws him in further, almost as if she doesn't understand how pretty she is, so it's an untapped pool of radiance. Her skin is flawless, contrasting with the darkness of her hair to the point where he would perhaps mistake her for a vampire in bad lighting if not for the rosieness of her cheeks.

She smiles ever so slightly and he can feel his heart racing slightly, something that he hasn't felt for a long time. It's almost like the new blood in the house is drawing him out again, that he's got a chance to be himself whilst she's new because after the novelty wears off, he's back to the ghost boy that nobody sees.

(And, he doesn't realise it, but his soul is beginning to heal itself.)

"Wanna go to the shop or something?" she asks, even though it's dark outside. A sense of desolation crosses over him at this point, for he can't go outside, even though it's dark. He just _about_ manages to quantify his feelings because she doesn't know that you shouldn't go outside with vampires (though it would be number 101 in his survival guide if he wrote one) in the dark, because the odds are stacked against you.

So he blinks through the pain because he _can't_ leave, even if he wanted to, and shakes his head. "We don't go out at night, Claire," he reminds her gently, too gently because he doesn't want to do anything that could cause her to crack further. He's probably overreacting but he doesn't really care, if he's honest. "The vampires roam the streets then and the one that Eve said you saw _really_ has a vendetta against the people in this house," he loses the almost – _almost_ – pleasant side to his expression as he contemplates the state of their town.

For a split second, he worries that her spark is going to go out for the simplest of reasons – because she can't go in _town_ at night – but then he realises he's merely overreacting because why would this end with her breaking? It wouldn't; he just thinks that everything could be so much worse because, well, he's in the same boat.

"Ok," she smiles and sits back down, already appearing to seem so much more at home than she did before. Now, he can see her sitting here in three months time, see her remaining in his home even more than before, and he can almost see how she's going to help him because he can _feel_ it already. He's sure that he's not experiencing the placebo effect because he _thinks_ he ought to be getting better – he really is! For the first time, he's wanted to play music at night, wanted to write new stuff because he wants to take it in a whole new direction than he did before. It almost startles him…until he remembers why he thinks it is.

And so they talk; they talk about everything that he could possibly think of: schools, hobbies, sports, literature – anything and everything he can think of, just so he can begin to build a profile of Claire Danvers in his mind to join his other friends.

And also for him to try and help her.

But he's not going to tell her that.

.

She goes to bed around two am because he managed to make her forget the time till then and she leaves him in an almost rejuvenated state. He still feels as if he's going to fall apart at the seams if something doesn't happen to improve his situation soon, yet he's confident that he can help Claire…and that will help him.

At least that's what he hopes will happen.

.

The night draws to an end and he prepares for the painful experience that occurs every single night, seeming to get more and more painful as time passes. He has to die again, die as per how he died before, and he braces himself for the agony that occurs.

It happens, of course it does, yet he finds a way to cope with the pain silently as he falls to the floor in agony, just as it happens every sunrise. He thinks of Claire's face as he collapses, thinks of what he has to fight for – to release her from her shell, to allow her to bloom and prosper in Morganville rather than waste away until she's merely a broken shell that can be discarded.

And, the sad thing in Morganville is that when you've no longer a purpose, you're disposed of.

Permanently.

~x~

Slowly but surely, she finds herself becoming more secure with herself, no longer feeling as if one nasty word is going to send her over the edge as she has felt before. No, now she feels almost _stable_, as if just talking to someone else about things has released a huge pressure.

Michael seems to understand her, something that she's always lacked in her life – her parents never _really_ understood that she wanted a degree of social interaction as well, and when she said anything to them they didn't understand. Yet Michael listens to her, offers her advice sometimes, and she's beginning to get an impression that she's helping him in some strange way. How _he_ can be anything like her is beyond her capacity to think because he's _Michael Glass_: he's strong and confident; he's a musician who can write his own amazing songs – what _he_ would have to be scared of is beyond her.

Yet he's someone she's already close to; within these few, short weeks, she's already feeling as if they're closer than she's been to anyone before – even to her parents because all she felt they saw in her was her potential to succeed. But he's always there for her – well, after dusk – and she feels as if she can tell him anything that she wants, without being judged.

One night, she can't sleep, so she decides to pop down to talk to him, even though she knows he's just going to tell her off because she's up at sunrise without having slept. He's more than just a housemate, already a friend and someone she can tell her closest secrets to, someone who seems to share a connection with her.

And he's not exactly ugly, either.

So she walks through the house to try and find him, realising distantly that the sun's already beginning to rise over the horizon; she's been in Morganville a matter of weeks, known about vampires for less than that, yet she's already into the habit of counting the hours of daylight, the hours of relative safety in the town.

"Michael?" she calls his name softly because she _knows_ he is down here; after all, she would have heard him go upstairs otherwise, wouldn't she? There's no answer so she perseveres through into the living room…

…and finds him on the floor, curled up in agony.

"Michael!" she repeats his name yet with more of an urgent tone to it, running over to his side and falling to her knees as she lifts his arm up. He tries to pull away and she's momentarily hurt until his face screws up with the agony she can see in the way he's holding himself.

And then he begins to disappear.

She's got an inkling that there's something strange going on and it's confirmed as his body disappears more and more with every second.

"Don't tell…" he manages to mutter, his sky blue eyes locked in hers until they too vanish to become one with the air. A cool chill runs over her as sometimes happens in this house and it's beginning to make her wonder if _that_ has something to do with what's going on as well – or if she's just paranoid.

But, for the first time, she's got an idea why he's so fragmented inside as well…just like her.

~x~

He reappears that night and he's in her room instantly, trying desperately to talk to her before she tells the other two what she's seen…and also because he _wants_ her to know first. He wants to be able to confide in her for a change, rather than the other way around, as it'd be nice for his soul to be healed for a change.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks her, already shutting the door without bothering to wait for her permission. As he turns to face her, she's standing taller and stronger than she's seemed to him before, more whole than before, and he's wondering if he's going to destroy anything in her because he didn't tell her the truth.

"What _are_ you?" she requests this knowledge first, which makes sense when you're considering the logical side of a conversation involving the paranormal.

"I'm a ghost," he shrugs as he says this, sitting down on her desk chair. "Some vampire – I didn't know he was a vampire at first because he was new in town – came in and tried to turn me into a vampire…which sort of failed," his half smile fades into a grimace as he speaks.

All she can see is the way that the angelic side to him that is so prominent could have been lost if this had happened; all she can see is that this entire conversation wouldn't have been happening because would she have moved in with a vampire? Um, no, because that would have probably been more detrimental to her health than staying with Monica…but she's thankful for him being this ghost – a logic that barely makes sense to her own mind – because she's got _him_ here as well.

"Oh," it's her turn this time to not know how to proceed with the advice as she sits opposite him. His eyes lock into hers and she's momentarily breathless, unable to remember anything as she gets a chance to look through a window into his soul. It's just like her's, she's decided, incomplete and in pieces because he's suffered more than anything she could possibly imagine.

She's thankful that he's told her before the others, even though she knows that normally it should have been the other way around, because it gives her a chance to feel as if she's giving _him_ something rather than the usual Michael helping Claire scenario that usually occurs in their home. Claire can see that perfect Michael Glass _isn't_ so perfect anymore and it makes her feel more normal, because if someone like _Michael_ can have human problems (or not, as the case may be) then she's sure that her life can comfortably contain a smattering of drama

It's just getting the drama down to a smattering that's the problem for her at the minute.

He smiles at her and reaches out for her hand, his own warm one encasing hers as she doesn't make any movement against their physical touching. It's more than comforting, if she's honest, because it gives her a connection to someone else who is having troubles.

And, if she's even _more_ honest, it's not exactly a bad thing to hold the hand of the guy she's forming a crush on. He's the epitome of handsome for her, with his blond hair flopping into his eyes at certain angles, the piercing depths to which she is certain his eyes can manage…and the way that he's so strong on the outside, yet he's only hiding the murky, dangerous waters beneath that could lead to his downfall.

"I think you need to tell the others soon," she murmurs and he nods. "But, for now, why don't we just talk about it? I mean, it helps to talk, right?"

"Sounds good," he smiles again before proceeding to talk about everything that he can that's related to his revelation because it's already helping to get it off his chest.

And, like Claire, he's already beginning to heal.

~x~

She knows everything now and he knows everything about her, so they're equals now. It seems that they spend more and more time together up in her room because it's more private than with Eve and Shane around, not because they want to be secretive but merely because it's easier for them to talk frankly without the humour that would be associated with the other two.

Shane's seemed to show her a certain interest but she doesn't see him as anything other than a funny, albeit slightly _too_ radical friend who has far too many dates for his own good. It's Michael who she's able to relate to more: Michael knows what's wrong with her; she knows what's wrong with Michael. they're both the destroyed souls – or _more_ destroyed souls, as you can hardly deny that Shane isn't damaged – in the house and Michael continues to keep his ghostliness a secret because it gives him further excuse to talk to Claire alone.

.

At the same time as Claire falls for him, Michael begins to realise just the potential that Claire has. She's bright, funny and vivacious – everything she's always been, yet the shadowing of her troubles before almost hid it. She's beautiful as well, perhaps even more so than before, and he's never had an issue talking to her.

He begins to dream of dreaming about her when he drifts around the house as a ghost during the day; he dreams of the day that he can once again sleep so he can dream about walking through the streets with Claire, hand in hand, because that's the idea he's got in his head about the epitome of perfection. He knows that there's nearly no chance of this happening, especially as only one person in the entire town knows he's a ghost, yet he can but dream because this is where he wants to go.

The torment strikes him during the day because he's beginning to be able to see the fact that she feels something for him as well, perhaps sparked from their shared connection, and he wonders if it's right for him to take away the right for her to be able to date someone normal. He's not going to be able to take her to the cinema or out for dinner – he's stuck in this house, like a vampire never ageing, and he's got no purpose in life…well, he doesn't without her.

Everything he does is almost tainted by her, yet in a more positive way than negative. When he writes music, it's _her_ he writes it about, rather than the abstract concept of the girl who he should love. He can't wait to be able to talk to her when he's a ghost, regrets the way that she has to sleep through half the time that he gets with her because it means that he loses the chance to just learn everything about her that's physically possible to learn.

He wants to ask her 'out' – funny term, since he can't actually leave the house – but he's scared that she'll decline it, or that she'll end up hating him because he can't leave the Glass House to go anywhere with her.

So he sticks with silence, because that's what seems to have worked so well for now.

~x~

Time flies by and it's decided by the fact that they're caught up in the search for the book that they're going to tell Shane and Eve about Michael being a ghost, something that doesn't go down well. It's strange for Claire to be seeing their reaction because she somehow managed to accept straight away what Michael is – she doesn't know if that's because she couldn't really _not_, given how much he had listened to her droning on, but she doesn't care because she knows that to not accept it would be not to accept Michael.

She feels three hundred times better now than she did when she walked into the Glass House, strong enough to have more than a little self confidence, and it's so refreshing for Michael to see her like this because it makes him think that there _was_ a point in him taking her under his wing, so to speak. And she's so happy to see that he's slowly improving, yet she can't tell why because it's not like she's done anything.

(She hasn't realised that he's in love with her yet, a love like her love for him).

.

And so Shane and Eve come round to the fact that Claire already knew about Michael being a ghost, accepting him at the same time, and everything seems to go back to being hunky-dory…besides for one thing.

Claire's sure that she's no longer needed by Michael anymore to discuss his issues with, just like she doesn't feel a pressing need to vent everything to him, yet she _misses _him. She's came to crave their sessions together, came to adore the fact that she can monopolise his time and not feel as if she's being a pain.

And she misses the chance to get close to the one she's pretty sure, from all the romance novels she's read, she loves…because she's not entirely sure how you could _not_ love someone like Michael, someone so wholly pure.

One night, she decides that it's time to just go talk to him alone, without Shane or Eve around, so she waits for them to go to bed before she walks downstairs to talk to him. Michael's playing his guitar, as per usual, and as she approaches she can hear the soft crooning of his voice that makes her go weak at the knees. It's a noise that's heaven to her ears, indescribably incomparable to everything she's ever experienced, and she can't even begin to quantify what it makes her feel.

He realises she's standing there and stops playing, turning to smile at her as she moves to take a seat. "Hey," he says and it's suddenly so awkward for Claire because she's got so much she wants to say to him, yet she doesn't know how to.

Their eyes end up meeting and, as per usual, they're portals into their souls: he looks into her chocolate brown coloured eyes and sees everything she's wanted to say for weeks, whilst she tries to fight past the trance his eyes put her into just to find out that he feels the same.

"Uh…" she trails off because it's not confirmed verbally, and Claire Danvers _likes_ to know where she stands by verbal communication, written if she can get it.

But before she can get into asking him to write down that he loves her, he's shifted on the sofa to be turning around to press his lips softly to hers. It's so sweet, so tender that she can barely register what's happening as her hands automatically twist themselves into his hair and she kisses him back.

All concept of time is lost for Claire as she kisses Michael back, her eyes closing over as it becomes almost indescribable to even begin to describe how amazing an experience it is…or it is until it's over.

He pulls away and looks at her with a smile so bright that it's positively radiant, his hand moving back to take her left hand once again. "I…that was amazing," he blusters something to say and she laughs ever so slightly, ignoring the slight fog of tiredness that begins to come over her as she looks to see it's almost three am.

"Yeah, it was," she replies and he laughs a short, nervous laugh. "Before you say anything, just because you're a ghost doesn't mean that I don't want to be with you because I _do_," the pre-empting of his question stumps Michael for a second as he tries to formulate a response.

"I…how did you know what I was going to say?"

She grins again, shrugging ever so slightly, the radiance on her face having remained at the same level for over a minute now. "I just guess I'm a really, _really_ good guesser," she replies modestly.

"You're amazing," is all Michael says in response, before Claire takes the lead this time – only due to her increased confidence – and leans over to kiss him again, just as softly as the first time.

Yet it doesn't end there.

Neither of them particularly consciously notice this but as their bodies entwine together, the final pieces of their souls slot into place, entirely whole for the first time they've known one another – probably the first time in their entire lives.

And it's the most magical moment in their lives, to be able to complete their little lock and key…forever.

~x~

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_Hope ya liked it_

_Vicky xx_


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